This post is edited to fix it up a bit but is essentially the same.
⚠️: not the topic, but brief mention of depression/su*cidal inclination/s*icide
This is my true story.
“Tell me how to win your heart
For I haven’t got a clue
But let me start by saying
I love you” ❤️
When I was 18-20 years old (around 18-20 years ago), I was head over heels in love with another girl, a gay girl who hardly knew of my existence. I loved her secretly and never acted on it, but it was one of the most passionate loves I have ever known. I loved her with every fiber of my being, more than life itself. It was a fierce burning love that consumed all of me. There is still a vestige of that love living somewhere in me today, permanent, like a tattoo on the very soul of me.
She was a cisgender masc woman, a stereotypical gay woman with short black hair, and warm brown eyes. Very outgoing, the kind of person everyone liked. She was genuinely interested in people. She was around 30 years old when we met. The age difference did not matter. It doesn’t matter to me how much older someone is than me.
I remember the moment we first met. It was a cold mid-December afternoon in 2004. I saw her across the crowded lobby, holding her jacket, standing with a couple of people, smiling & looking around. It was one of those moments where time stands still. The place was packed, but I only saw her. I had no idea who she was or that our lives would soon cross paths & touch ever so briefly but impact me so profoundly. I was instantly drawn to her. A feeling of excitement automatically ran through me. She was around the same size as me, a wh!te woman wearing glasses with a backpack on. She was wearing blue jeans & a long-sleeved plaid shirt with the sleeves pulled up & sandals with socks.
I don’t remember the color of her shirt, but I vividly remember the sandals with socks; I thought it was cute & not something I saw often, something conventionally considered a fashion fail, but she pulled it off adorably. She exuded self-confidence.
Her hair was short (like what is typical for a man) & messy, sticking in all directions. She had a masculine way of moving; she was clearly a woman/fem presenting person but with a degree of masculinity, even the way she would brush her fingers through her hair or rub her hand down her face, was conventionally man-like. She was what someone would call boyish or tomboy. There was something macho in her mannerisms & appearance, masculine, but not so much so that she could be mistaken for a man. Anyone could see she was just a non gender conforming woman. She had the gender identity of a woman & was assigned female at birth.
Her voice was feminine & so was her laugh. She sometimes wore men’s cologne. I loved getting a whiff of her cologne. It was beyond thrilling when she would walk by me in her masculine way with her cologne wafting around me; my heart would race because of the thrill (men don’t do that to me, only women do, lol). Even now, I can feel the thrill, just remembering. I so want that experience again with someone else, someone who loves me back.
She had tattoos on her arms & a large silver watch on her wrist that was probably intended for a man. It added to her masculinity. And the whole masc thing drove me wild. When she would move in her masc ways, it was a big “turn-on.” It thrilled me to the core, sometimes sending my heart racing & making me giddy. Extreme joy & light would fill me to the brim. No makeup, occasionally she wore a necklace & small earrings. Some days I would see her dressed professionally, in pantsuits or shirts with collars. 🥵 Sometimes she wore baseball caps. I thought she was adorable.
Her aesthetic/style/appearance was very different than mine. I had hair long enough to sit on. It would hang over chairs when I would sit down & reach the floor when I laid in bed & threw my hair over the side. I wore large silver loop earrings & always had painted nails or, once in a while, even a French manicure if I was able to get the money 😁 I wore belly shirts that showed my whole midriff & low cut blue jeans with 5-inch stiletto heels & too much eyeshadow. I was told by different people that I looked like a stripper or a wh0re or asked if I was one lol
There’s no denying there was some kind of instant attraction that wasn’t sexual in nature but was very gay. lol I wouldn’t dare admit that back then.
The day I first met her, she walked over and leaned over me to look at something in back of me. She was mumbling something half to herself & half to me. Her face was in mine but off to the side. I was leaning on my side against a wall with my back against a long table that was pushed up against the wall I was leaning on and another wall in back of me. She wanted to see a poster or something on the wall in back of me.
The table and me were blocking her. And instead of asking me to move, she just leaned over me, lightly brushing up against me with her whole body. Instantly, an uncontrollable tingling feeling began in my fingertips & surged through my whole body to the tips of my toes, almost like if you take a shot of something alcoholic. I still remember it so vividly & just the way it felt to be around her. It’s a pleasant memory and gives me hope that I can have that again one day with someone who loves me back.
Her body just barely touched mine, but it was enough for me to feel something being that close. It felt not platonic but wasn’t sexual. While it was a pleasant sensation, could have even been thrilling, I was disturbed because I thought it made me gay and that that could potentially make me a target of homophobia even if I told no one. And I absolutely would not have told anyone at all back then, even if I trusted them, because then it would be out there in the uni-verse.
But even just keeping it to myself I did not want it to be true or to acknowledge it. I loved her being that physically close to me. The tingling feeling really disturbed & confused me when I would occasionally feel it around her. She would also give me a racing heart sometimes, not because of anxiety, but thrill. I would be giddy & ecstatic seeing her across a street, walking or talking to someone. She definitely gave me feels.
I was jealous of the people who knew her outside the very limited context I did. I remember feeling real jealousy that they got to know & love her while I just lurked on the sidelines and hid in the shadows secretly pining for her. I would have loved to be anything to her, a friend, an acquaintance, her life partner. When I would see her with coffee or lunch, I thought about how lucky the servers were to get to interact with her even if only briefly. She was that amazing to me.
She was a bubbly, energetic person who could brighten anyone’s day or uplift any mood, like one of those energizing “feel good” songs that make you want to get up & dance whenever it plays. She was my sunshine. I kept trying to come up with a way I could make contact with her and get her into my world, but I was too shy. And that is the story of my life. Lol
I loved her deeply right away & wanted her in some intimate way that I could never express. I thought of her as my baby, and every love song reminded me of her. She was the first thing on my mind waking up & the last thing falling asleep. I wondered what she was up to, thought about when I would see her again, fantasized about becoming so close to her.
I was thrilled when I knew I would see her again. I found myself dressing to attempt to impress her. I wanted her to like me like I liked her & think I was beautiful. I don’t fully understand what sexual attraction is or feeling “horny” because I never developed those feelings. I can only imagine.
So all life long my brain has compensated for the lack of understanding by focusing on the aspects that I do understand or experience myself, like thinking someone is breathtaking and wanting to stare. I wanted her to want to stare at me, thinking I was breathtaking. I did not realize it could make her “horny.” Lol
People ask me why I would dress the way I do if I don’t want s*x or don’t feel sexual attraction. It’s because I experience the aesthetic aspect of it. Beautiful women, including myself, intoxicate me, but they don’t make me horny. So I was trying to get her to feel the same feeling I have when I see a beautiful woman. I knew gay people are sexually attracted to people of their own gender & it has something to do with hooking up & liking how someone looks, but I never understood in an organized way what it means, the underlying phenomena of it. My understanding was vague & mechanical, logical.
Like, my friend dates/looks at other men because he’s gay. Gay means sexually attracted to people of your own gender. So my friend is sexually attracted to other men & loves to look at them. That much I knew, but I had no idea what the underlying thing is going on, what sexual attraction feels like, what it even is. My brain summed it up to basically loving how someone looks, but I still sensed there’s more to it.
My love for her was all-encompassing. I thought of her in every single thing I did. I was cr@zy for her. She was the love of my life. I wanted her so desperately, & eventually, I could not imagine life without her.
“I’m not your lover,
I’m not your friend,
I am something that you’ll never comprehend” Prince
Prince’s lyrics really resonated with me then because the love I experienced for her was so fierce and passionate, and all-consuming, that it truly was hard to comprehend. I thought she could never grasp the depth & intensity of my love for her. I remember feeling that I would never be able to explain adequately enough for her to understand it, even if given the opportunity. I felt there were no words. I also remember being jealous of my own love for her because no one loved me that fiercely and maybe never would.
That was a prominent thing on my mind back then that I totally forgot about until writing this. Remembering that feeling now is so familiar, like a long lost friend, a feeling like how did someone get so lucky to be loved to this depth & wishing I had that love lavished onto me. It was not arrogance at all, but I remember thinking in a detached way how lucky someone is to be this loved by someone else, & not just a feeling, but there isn’t a thing I would not have done for her, even if it meant I had to lay down my own life in an instant.
I felt I would have her back & cheer her on all life long even if we weren’t in touch. And I knew then the love was unconditional & lifelong (and it is). It wasn’t an everyday kind of love. It was a love that felt like a comet hit the Earth. It’s something I wasn’t accustomed to.
I would imagine us walking around together late at night in center city, Philadelphia, looking at all the buildings. Going to restaurants and sitting on the same side of the table. I always thought that’s adorable when I see happy couples sitting on the same side, in each other’s faces, even when it’s just them. I always wanted that with someone. I saw us sitting together, discussing law & politics & psychology & philosophy. I imagined us going to events around the city & having a group of mutual friends and us being the main two, the closest ones.
Sometimes I would daydream of her having a girlfriend but being closer to me. Lol I had no idea I was fantasizing about emotional cheating. That wasn’t my intention. I simply wanted her as my close cuddly friend, as mine, but knew people usually have a romantic partner, so I just casually imagined that aspect in my daydreams.
In my dreams we would curl up together on a sofa, our bodies touching while we talked or watched movies. I would imagine her having bad days so I could hold her all night and caress her cheeks & hair. Sometimes, I would imagine us arguing and then making up with long, loving hugs. She often got into tiffs with people because of her insulting sense of humor.
She got a kick out of taking playful jabs at people, sometimes quite tactless, something I’m not a fan of but could tolerate in her. She always apologized more than once if someone was truly offended & said she felt terrible, it was genuine. She loved tasteless jokes. She would say things like “boo-hoo, cry me a f*cking river” if someone complained about something she found petty, especially something political. She ragged on Republicans.
I would imagine us being very emotionally & physically close. I did not have the nerve to daydream about (nonsexual) physical things with her. I never imagined her with no clothing, it never even occurred to me. I genuinely wasn’t interested. Thoughts about tenderly touching her would pop into my head, and I would instantly banish them. I imagined our faces touching, lips brushing each other’s, my hands cupping her cheeks, sliding up her shirt to gently rub her back, her hand in mine, caressing it, holding her close. My body would melt at the thought.
Then I would tell myself I can’t be gay, it wasn’t happening. So sometimes I would imagine her having a bad day (sometimes she did seem a bit dejected but was usually very cheerful) & me holding her close to comfort her. It was my excuse to imagine touching her without being gay about it. Lol
I would imagine her falling asleep in my arms & me running my fingers through her hair. I would tell myself I was going overboard with the fantasies for a “hetero” girl. I imagined nonsexual sleepovers, us falling asleep together, me holding her, my arms wrapped tightly around her, never letting go. My fantasies felt “too gay” even though they were never sexual. I knew people would think that if they knew, and I struggled with anxiety even though no one could find out. The biggest insecurity was that it was not as valid according to society because it was nonsexual.
The thought of me possibly being gay was stressful; there were occasions when it was low-key traumatic. But me being nonsexual was the biggest insecurity & stressor of all. It was mortifying & filled me with fear in every conversation with friends or peers, afraid they would catch on, but lying about having desire/experience felt so off and unnatural to me. I never heard of such a thing as me and thought I was the biggest fr3ak of nature.
I internalized society’s messages about people who are different & about romantic/sexual feelings being most important. Back then I never heard of asexuality. I had no idea there are more people like me. I had no idea how to even explain what I am; I could tell it runs so much deeper than a dysfunction & just “not wanting s*x.” It’s an ingrained part of me since birth. I couldn’t articulate it. The lack of that aspect did not make my love for her any less like society would have us believe.
I would imagine me buying her gifts, like cupcakes & coffee. I imagined her causally taking a swig of the beer she loved as we hung out on some apartment balcony in center city late at night, surrounded by the city lights, laughing about everything. In my mind, we listened to Phil Collins, George Michael, Billy Ocean, Hall & Oates…all night long & danced under the stars to our 80’s songs.
Now I understand that she would never have been interested in an 18-year-old anyway. When I was 30 years old, an 18-year-old wouldn’t even catch my eye or cross my mind. The age difference itself isn’t a problem; it’s not even that significant, but my age was a kid age. But at 18 years old I did not realize that. I couldn’t have cared less that she was 30 years old or even 50 years old. I just liked her, & that’s all that mattered.
Over a year later, after not seeing her anymore but knowing she was around still, I randomly saw her walking into the building where her work office was. I did not know she still worked there, but I did know she was still around that location even when I no longer saw her. I knew I could run into her again & had so much hope that I would.
I found myself going out of my way just to see her, going into the building when I had no reason to, & walking by her office to catch a glimpse. I would see her in professional mode in her glasses, shuffling papers around her desk, sometimes writing something down, pulling things out of a filing cabinet, talking to people, laughing & joking, & drinking coffee. And oh how it thrilled me. Every little thing she did amazed me, even the most mundane things. I loved her laugh. She intoxicated me. She had me spellbound.
I would walk by & listen to parts of her work conversations, not to hear what she was saying, but to hear her voice & that laugh. It was only for a few minutes, then I would leave. But it brought me so much joy. I secretly struggled with depression & su*cidal thoughts off & on. Sometimes just thoughts of her would ground me & keep me here when I really began to contemplate. She was my glimmer.
I used to walk to the subway sometimes right before seeing her & try to get up the courage to go when the train would come. I would get so close to the edge, & when the train would come speeding, I lost my nerve and would step back. Then I would see her & thank the heavens above that I stayed. Just a glimpse of her was enough to make me want to live. You never know who you may be helping or inspiring just being you.
I would run up like 14 (maybe more; it was like 20 years ago; my memory of some details is a bit hazy, lol) flights of stairs in my stilettos just to see her. I am claustrophobic (it’s dormant now but was active back then) & was afraid of the elevators. Her office was right there near the door at the top of the stairs. Her door was always open.
I used to have to open the door slightly & peer through to make sure she wasn’t walking out of her office as I was walking into the hallway because she did know of me (though I’m not sure she remembered me, my hair was so long that it stood out, people would stop me on the streets to comment on it, so that maybe could have given me away 😆), & I had no reason whatsoever to be there. I hoped the same people wouldn’t see me lurking around every day lol
It would have been awkward to come face to face with her like that, & I would have had some explaining to do. I wasn’t about to utter the truth, “Oh, I’m just lurking around stalking you because I’m in love with you.” She basically had no clue who I even was. She knew me a year before but only in a superficial way. I was just background noise to her. (I’m literally laughing out loud as I’m writing this and imagining that 🤣) 😆 Her back was to her door & to the side.
Thankfully, she never turned as I was running by every day. Creepy, I know. I would like to give the excuse that I was practically a kid, but I’ll admit that I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same now at nearly 40 years old if I met another woman & became absolutely whipped (and I can just as easily run up 14+ things of stairs today lol) 😂
She was a gay rights activist and openly gay. We chatted occasionally but were never friends or acquaintances. When her hand accidentally touched mine (and it was definitely not intentional, lol. She had zero interest in me – actually, one day she did affectionately touch my arm, but not that way), my whole body got warm fuzzies.
She asked to borrow my pen one day and then stopped writing and touched my arm to ask and make sure she wasn’t making me late for somewhere. She wasn’t, but even if she was, I would have said no. 😆 That warm gesture, I knew it did not mean much to her; I wasn’t delusional; it wasn’t personal on her part. But it stayed with me for a while. I felt that it really showed how caring she was.
I did not know her extremely well or know her very long. But I knew enough. She was outgoing but not a very open person with people in general. She said she was generally selective of who she opened up to. But I got a good idea of her general temperament, some of her life & career goals, & her sense of humor; she was very easily amused & lighthearted like me. She had very Liberal/progressive/feminist/atheist views, like me, volunteered at Democratic political events and the polls at every election.
She was anti-d3ath penalty & pro-choice. Very intelligent and intellectual, loved to read and discuss educational topics. She liked the same tv shows as me. She had a master’s degree & was working to get a phD. She loved to read educational texts just for fun. I also do! We had the same interest in topics like law & psychology. I would buy law textbooks at used. bookstores to impress her in case we became friends. lol I used to buy them just for me to read also, but I remember going out of my way and buying more, imagining how impressed she would be.
She looked “rough” on the outside or had a “rough around the edges” air about her & used the word “f*ck” a lot just in her general conversations and was sarcastic & outspoken. But she had a softness about her, a sensitivity; she was deeply compassionate for humans & animals and very kind, humble, loved kids.
There was a gentleness in her interactions with others. She called people “love” & “hon.” She was a softie inside, a fact that wasn’t evident at first glance and may not have ever been detected by people not particularly intuitive or not paying attention. I loved the combination of her bad@$$ery and warm softness. It suited her well. In a way, I knew her in a deep way, enough to know I truly loved her and wanted to spend forever with her.
I knew she was genuine, a good person; I would trust her with my life, my bank account, my secrets. But in another way, I only scratched the surface, most of what I knew was superficial. I knew she loved Jack Daniels beer and cheesesteaks and 80’s music (me too with the 80, lol. I am a vegetarian, though, so no steaks for me, also I’m not into alcohol, but we did have a lot in common also).
Another thing I knew about her is that she knew since she was little that she’s gay but kept it a secret until after she graduated undergraduate school because of fear of homophobia. Another gay woman she met inspired her to “come out.” I thought she was the most perfect amazing person I ever met. I ached for her, for her companionship, for her love. Back then I loved her more than anyone.
One day, someone said something homophobic to her, and she got very, very worked up & defensive and asked him how he (a nonwh!te man) liked it when he heard racist remarks & explained that’s how it feels to gay people hearing homophobic stuff. I wanted to walk over and hug her. I felt so guilty (and to this day, still do) for not defending her and all gay people. I felt very defensive of her. But I just stood there frozen in place, not able to open my mouth and speak up.
I remember this extremely self conscious, anxious feeling come over me, that he was going to think I was gay and target me next. There was no reason at all that he would think that, but I was self conscious about possibly being gay. I did not exactly think of myself as gay but still felt att@cked. He apologized to her.
She wanted to get married & have kids. Something I never wanted. So we weren’t compatible as life partners. I still wanted her though 😆 This is one indication that what I experience is lesbian oriented aromanticism (it’s a thing) and not exactly homoromanticism. Romantic attraction doesn’t usually have this boundary.
Romantic attraction often inspires feelings of wanting to build a life together and share every aspect especially things involving kids (or not having kids) and a home. For me it’s more about an intense emotional connection especially, and an element of sensuality and some unity, but overall separate lives but with the same level of importance to each other and emotional investment as romantic relationships.
I would have given my whole life to & for her. If I had to give my own life to save hers, I would not have hesitated. I would listen to this song by Prince over & over thinking about how it describes me and my love for her so so well. I’m not your lover, I’m not your friend….I am something that you’ll never comprehend…I did not want to date her or hook up with her, but I wanted to be her everything. And she was already mine. I wouldn’t have minded if she had a girlfriend and wanted to be close friends with me even if it wasn’t as close as I wanted.
I wanted to spend life together and see each other everyday, share whole nights together, but not “build a life” together or make big life decisions together. So her wanting kids did not matter to me because they wouldn’t be my responsibility. But now I know if we were as close & invested as I wanted to be, it would be expected of me to be closely involved with them too.
Since she’s a gay woman, she would be expecting a relationship where I would be the other mom. But before I fully understood how romantic relationships/feelings work, I wasn’t thinking of that. I was just thinking we would be each other’s person with separate lives. I thought she could have a wife/family along with me but separately, not thinking it would not be practical/ethical if they aren’t polyam.
I imagined her having a girlfriend or wife just because that’s how life usually works, it’s something everyone does. So when I would daydream or imagine life with her, I kind of causally imagined the wife, which she did not have yet, taking the back burner and her and me being each other’s main source of emotional connection and happiness & by each other’s side always, spending nights together connecting and talking about everything & nothing, being each other’s “date” to everything. While the wife just existed. Lol
I did think about how it would be very unlikely to meet someone who loves me as much as they would love a romantic partner or even more and be as close to me or even closer, but still thought there could be hope (not realizing it would be unethical/emotional cheating on the wife. Because it’s not sexual/fully romantic, I thought it was ok, now I know it’s not).
Years later after conversations with people and thinking it through, I realized I was actually kind of imagining these women I loved or a future one I hoped to meet as loving me romantically because unconsciously or on some level I kind of knew that’s likely what it would take for them to feel as close to me as I wanted, and I just imagined their romantic partners as like filler people in the background. I began to understand that’s not how that would or should work.
I remember telling my mom before that I want a gay girl best friend and her asking why her sexual orientation matters and me having no idea what to say and feeling cringey for saying that. I realize I knew on some level a “gay girl best friend” could potentially be closer than a hetero best friend. I also would love a regular best friend of any orientation or gender. But what I was describing to my mom is even closer and more invested, and I did not consciously realize. I also remember thinking I would like to have a gay girl roommate and “accidentally” fall asleep in bed together. 🤣
A few years ago after conversations with a few people explaining how monogamous romantic attraction/love/relationships work, I realized that a woman is not likely going to have a girlfriend or wife and be able to be that emotionally invested in me and available to me. I remember the sinking feeling when I was told that when someone is in love with someone or even just very into someone romantically, if they aren’t polyam, they don’t usually have any kind of real feelings for anyone else that way.
It just hit me that the only way a woman is going to be that close to me is if she’s romantically interested (or is like me, which is very hard to find), but then if that’s the case, she’ll want more (sexual) than I can give and would probably lose interest in me with me not being completely compatible.
I kind of already knew this on some level, but now saw it at a different angle or on a more conscious level or more defined way or saw it in a different light. I always knew I would likely never be someone’s person, someone’s love. And that has always wounded me off & on throughout life, and now it hit me so hard that I fell into a deep month-long depressive episode when it registered that I may never have the woman of my dreams. And not in the way everyone these days feels they’ll never find their person because dating is just so hard and people just s u c k now but because of the way I’m made. I’m compatible with almost no one. Like most, I only love one woman at once like this but can have multiple close friends.
There are people out there who are like me, and there are people who are not like me but would give up some of what they desire or crave for a relationship with me that I want and still be overall happy & fulfilled. But they are hard to find. And I would never expect someone to settle for me. It would have to be someone who genuinely sincerely truly feels I have something invaluable to offer & would not be essentially less happy with me than someone more compatible even if there’s a lack of something. I can initiate & reciprocate verbal, emotional, physical affection in ways that could feel/appear to be romantic, but I’m not like the average person in terms of sexuality.
It can wear on my sense of self esteem/worth knowing that romantic/sexual relationships are most important in life and not being cut out for them because of the way I’m made and knowing that someone is either going to have to reject me or settle for me. Likely, anyone who ever loves me will always be settling (if it’s romantic) or love someone else more (if platonic). I will never be someone’s person, someone’s top priority. And even if so, there will always be another equally beautiful woman out there who can give her all that I can & everything I can’t.
I wouldn’t mind at all if she has sexual encounters with others, but most are monogamous. I would feel I’m holding her back. It can feel like she’s neglecting/lowering herself, with me enabling it.
It’s like being a half-baked lesbian, a fake gay woman, a cheap knockoff of the real thing. This is only a thought that pops up occasionally, I don’t dwell on it, but it’s unpleasant and toxic to me when it “rears its ugly head,” especially when it’s accompanied by depression.
Asexual people are often told that we are selfish & unfair for wanting a close emotional & physical but. nonsexual relationship, that we aren’t deserving of it because no one can possibly be happy & fulfilled with us even if they say they don’t mind.
The truth is, though it’s exaggerated, I believe there’s a shred of truth to it. Some can be happy & fulfilled with an asexual person & essentially no less happy, but something will always be lacking for them even if it’s not significant enough to really affect them. Still there’s a lack. I either have to selfishly accept they are lacking something with me or never have a close relationship like that.
Knowing this can sometimes wear on my sense of self-worth, knowing I’m inherently not enough, could never be enough, & that I’m not worthy of that love & closeness because I was born lacking a nearly universal, primitive drive that is considered fundamental to being human & essential to the most important relationships.
I have a diagnosed depressive condition. Because I already have this condition that comes & goes, I began to have su*cidal thoughts not just because my dream felt shattered, that too, but because I felt so inadequate and inherently unlovable and unworthy. And I felt like I have been going through life all along not knowing or fully understanding how it works, how normal people operate. I felt subhuman, not only not experiencing but not even truly understanding basic or primitive feelings that are nearly universal, that even children experience & understand.
Being aromantic & asexual since birth can make it hard to understand the nuances of romantic & sexual attractions and relationships even after we learn & grasp the concepts, intellectually. Sometimes it can be hard not to feel so broken in a world that centers around romance & sexuality and expects everyone to have those experiences and values them above all else.
I have often felt invalidated and inadequate when I would hear comments saying or implying that romantic relationships/life partnerships necessarily involve a sexual aspect. I want a relationship with the same level of importance & investment but without the sexual aspect, & always hearing that sexual feelings & activity are necessarily part of that or that sexual activity & feelings are needed for two people to be as close as they can possibly be can make it seem like I’m broken inside or that any relationship I would ever have wouldn’t be as real or valid. Or that if I meet a woman who loves me and feels close to me it still wouldn’t be to the extent as if it was a relationship with a sexual aspect.
I don’t believe it genuinely. There is no doubt two people can be in a nonsexual relationship that is just as loving and fulfilling and happy and intimate as a sexual relationship but without that aspect. But still hearing certain comments and just being so different in that way, it can be hard not to internalize it and feel inferior or broken or not good enough.
These comments & messages by people and society as a whole are not necessarily said to me directly or said about me or asexuality itself, they’re just comments or reflections in conversations or sometimes personal development or relationship books. It’s just kind of understood in U.S. society that sexual relationships are the closest and most intimate. As someone who longs so deeply for a deep, emotionally intimate, relationship it’s hard to hear those mundane comments strongly implying or saying that sexual feelings & encounters are the closest someone can be to someone else & most important.
There are remarks/sentiments I have heard all life long, like to make sure you “test” sexual activity before getting married/moving in together/committing because it will be a “waste” or you’ll “have to cheat” later if they’re lousy at it. As an asexual woman it’s disheartening to know that no matter how loving and affectionate and caring I am none of that matters, my personality doesn’t matter, nothing about me matters, I’m a waste or deserve to be cheated on because of the one thing I was born lacking.
It truly can feel like nonsexual people are inferior or inadequate, not cut out for what is considered the most important kind of relationship in life & lacking what is considered the most important feelings. I don’t think people who are not asexual would understand the feeling of hearing that we’re a waste, that the whole person has to be rejected or thrown out because of that one thing we lack. It’s completely valid to require compatibility in that way in relationships, but it’s also valid to find that it cuts or stings to know that’s the general sentiment.
It’s an insecurity that, when it flares up, can permeate every other aspect of life, making it feel like I’m less as a whole woman, a whole human, like nothing else about me matters because I lack what is considered the most important feeling/inclination, like I don’t matter anywhere, at work or in friendships, or in anything I do since I’m not adequate for what is socially considered the most important kind of relationship & no one could ever want me. It doesn’t matter if I’m a good friend, a good employee, a good person when I’m not good enough for what society values most. It has triggered su*cidal thoughts & urges in me.
There’s also the infantilization of people who don’t have those feelings or don’t have any/much romantic/sexual experience. I have been told that I can’t have an opinion on anything because I don’t have adult feelings or experience & can’t be taken seriously. I have seen people say the same about the Pope/religious people who are celibate & just people who don’t have much relationship experience.
This has occasionally provoked feelings of not being a real adult or real woman or real person in me, feelings of being a useless member of adult society, like I have nothing to contribute, am just one-dimensional, nothing of substance. When my depression flares up with su*cidal urges, this can push me over the edge.
It’s painful to always be erased, overlooked, not believed. It’s no one’s fault if they never heard of us, but to have everyone, including healthcare workers, assume everyone is sexual/heterosexual is suffocating. It’s like being an irrelevant person.
And yet I wouldn’t change my asexuality even if I could because I am made this way, and that itself doesn’t hurt me.
Also, I am wounded, in a way I can’t explain, by the fact I had to suppress my love for other women & live in fear because of a society that is so unaccepting.
I have longed so deeply for a relationship that is just as invested as romantic with some of the nuances. For a love that deep & central to our lives, for my person where we are so close there has never been anyone closer. For a warm tender love that has the core touch of a lover but isn’t quite one, though is beyond typical friendship. I’m not your lover…I’m not your friend… I would Die 4 U.
I saw a YouTube video where a woman was talking about her wife’s su*cide. She said in the beginning, her friends & family were there constantly with her, providing love & support. But it began to fade; everyone went back to their own lives, which is completely valid and expected. Even a close best friend has to get back to her own life. But a wife or girlfriend would still be there if someone close to you dies. She wouldn’t have a different life to get back to if your brother or mom died. You would be her life. She would still be there weeks, months, years later helping you cope in ways even your closest friends & family wouldn’t be.
This is the kind of relationship I have always wanted, the kind where I am important enough to someone that they wouldn’t have another life to get back to. It’s just one of the nuances of a romantic relationship that platonic doesn’t have. I would not expect this of a typical platonic friend. I have just always hoped to meet a woman where we happen to have this inclination for each other. & it hit hard when I consciously realized it’s even less likely and more complex than I thought since I lack some of the feelings that usually go along with this. I used to fear that expressing this would come off as clingy (or gay – and I wasn’t ready to face the homophobia) & that I would be judged for it.
This woman, I loved in a way that I wanted her by my side for life, every day, as close as two people can be. I only knew her briefly and never saw her again. But it was true, passionate love. I still think of her occasionally and those days.
One day, 18 years ago, two years after we met, when I randomly saw her out walking, I decided to walk up and say hello. I’m not outgoing, and we hardly knew each other. When I got up to her, I lost my nerve. She had her back turned to me, walking. I walked right up to her back & was going to get next to her when suddenly she stopped and looked into her bag. I abruptly stopped as well, then walked around her and stopped in front of her, hoping that she would say something to me & we could possibly exchange phone numbers. I looked back at her, but she did not acknowledge me at all. She walked around me and kept going. That was the last I ever saw her.
I remember suddenly becoming very conscious of my hair, thinking she would remember me by that but apparently not. Or I was so insignificant to her that she did not see any reason to communicate with me. If that is true, it wasn’t rude or negative. We likely all have people who aren’t essential in our lives & wouldn’t necessarily go out of our way to talk to them even if we saw them.
The last memory I have of her is watching her walk away in a long Winter coat as I stood feeling so very unimportant, alone, & empty.
She was so much more important to me than I was to her. I got this sinking & empty feeling. I did not have any main/close friends. Her not acknowledging me added to my loneliness. Once in a while that love & longing for her would rekindle even after not seeing/hearing anything of her for years.
I knew I would not be seeing her anymore because she was getting a new job. I experienced grief almost like when someone dies. I remember the empty feeling and the deep grief when I walked by her office and it wasn’t her at her desk but someone else. I already knew it and walked by just to confirm, but it still hit me hard. The pain was so intense I felt the need for some kind of instant relief. It was throbbing. My entire world felt empty & sinking because for two years I built it around her & the hope that she would someday be mine. And then she was gone. I was gutted.
For a while after not seeing her anymore I would actively love her & long for her companionship. Time & distance gradually faded that longing, the love became dormant. Eventually, she became just a pleasant thought that pops into my head now & again through the years. I never forgot her or the impact she has on me. I cherish the memories.
There have been occasions, even years later, where I experienced a wave of sadness that we never got to be friends & all the years of knowing each other were missed.
I can still imagine loving her like that today. I recently saw her on social media (we’re not friends), she’s just as amazing as I remember. I have the same love for her I did back then but not the invested kind I experienced then. It’s very warm, deep love but now lacks the intensity & physical aspect of back then. She’s happily married to a lovely fem girl, for years. They have a college aged daughter, pets, very successful, got the phD she was working on. Her & her family are happy & are surrounded by close friends & family. I’m so very happy for her.
Those feelings of back then probably have potential to be rekindled if we got to know each other & she wasn’t married (not that it matters, she’s married lol And waayy out of my league, always was. I’m not interested anyway). She is still adorable, looks the same, same style, hair, personality. She is still a passionate lgbtq+ activist, her & her wife both. When I have that love for/emotional attraction to another woman, I can easily & happily be their friend, it doesn’t have to be the invested relationship I desire with them. I would love to be friends. But we are total strangers & really always have been.
I don’t belong or fit in anywhere in this sense. I am very attracted to the appearance of other women. My aesthetic attraction to other fem-presenting people is powerful enough to stop me in my tracks & inspire me to stare, feeling intoxicated. I experience a kind of emotional attraction to them that I don’t to men. I can imagine “coming home to” and sleeping in bed with another woman, touching in sensual ways.
Yet, I don’t belong in the lesbian community or lesbian groups because I don’t want sexual contact with them. I see frequently in lesbian groups online the women bashing women who don’t “give head” or don’t “scissor,” saying they’re really heterosexual women who are just using lesbians because they’re tired of men or that they’re a “waste of time” when they go on a date with them only to find out they don’t give it.
An essential part of being a lesbian & lesbian identity is the sexual aspect, & that’s completely valid, but it makes it feel so out of place to be an asexual lesbian. But I’m not heterosexual either in any way. There’s just no place in society for an asexual person in terms of sexuality/romance. And if we have aspects of another identity, particularly a queer one, it’s like our asexuality cancels it out according to society because the sexual aspect is so prominent for most and so valued by society that that’s what the whole identity is reduced to. Sometimes it feels like being basically nothing, and that’s an unpleasant feeling.
Even in the asexual community it’s often like being out of place because it’s full of people who love s*x & “normal” people who just lost their s*x drives because of aging/medications/menopause/stress…and call themselves “asexual now.” True, thoroughly asexual since birth people with the full ace experience are rare even within the community it seems.
People think that anything that doesn’t fit into the perfect uniform boxes that society created (gay, hetero, and cisgender) to shove us all into, so they can feel more comfortable & secure, is just some trend, us jumping on the bandwagon to try to be different, fit in with people who aren’t the norm, or rebel against society. But those strict boxes are social constructs.
Attractions & love are natural things, but saying everyone has to experience that & those experiences for everyone all have to look, feel, & be expressed exactly the same is unnatural. There will always be people outside of the norm who always existed but never had a label or organized community of people like them. People who do not fit inside those perfect boxes.
I never began getting crushes when other kids did; I hardly understood what a crush even is; I never had a first kiss because I have no inherent desire. I have never been on a date or saw anyone I was interested in taking on a date, I never looked at someone at any age & thought I would like to see them with no clothes on.
At every age & stage of life, I have struggled to understand what is driving all of this for everyone else. Since childhood til well over 30 years old. At every age I felt something is off with me & could never say what & was mortified because of what people may think or say about it, & tried my best to fit in by making up stories about having crushes on men.
I never truly understand what “horny” means and have always experienced confusion upon hearing the term “attracted to” or “sexual attraction.” I had no idea what that truly is because no one explains it because they think everyone will begin to experience it and just know. I used to Google “What does horny feel like” and “What does a crush feel like” even at 30+ years old.
It’s interesting because even though this experience was 20+ years ago, it’s still overall so vivid in my mind. And it’s still so profound. Certain minor details may be a bit hazy now, but I still remember all the feelings almost like I’m reliving them. I can still hear her voice & her laugh (I’ll admit I have {rarely} stalked her online since then, out of curiosity, and saw her in a couple of YouTube videos, so that helps 😆 but even without that I remember her voice & laugh back then) The memories of her still feel so familiar, and this experience still feels like “home.”
Recently I walked to the place where I knew her all those years ago. Nothing to do with her. I was there for an event. I have only been there on a few occasions in the last 15+ years. All the memories and feels came flooding back. I could feel her everywhere. It was a mixture of beauty, & pain, joy, & a sense of loss & missed opportunity. It was an unbearable nostalgic feeling. It made me want to go back.
It inspired a brief sense of that yearning I experienced all those years before. I couldn’t tell if it was a yearning for her now or if it was a yearning for what used to be or for what never was but, in theory, could have been. But whatever it was, it was a large wave that crashed into me & washed over me when I walked the streets we walked along back then & remembered that feeling of potential that has now been crushed by time & distance & circumstance & age.
It was so powerful I felt I could buckle at the knees. I remembered being young & the youth I lost along with all the possibilities, I felt the remnants of the giddiness and laughter & joy and young love that I lived back then. I remembered how young she was back then and felt a kind of grief for all the young years we lost and missed out on together (even just as typical friends) and a hint of despair at the fact that back then our lives were just beginning and are now over half over.
I was reminded of the grim fact that if I am lucky enough to meet another woman I have this love for who loves me back, we’ll never have the chance to be young together & won’t have many years together or at least not younger ones. When you meet your person/people, whether platonic or romantic or whatever, back then, you have many years to be young & fairly young together & have memories of being young together years later. Meeting in older age that opportunity is lost.
It can be depressing when I’m in a certain mood. I have had thoughts like this before, particularly when I’m in a depressed or somber reflective mood, but it all hit me with such force then along with the breathtaking nostalgia and flood of memories.
I have experienced this for quite a few women through the years, but my experience with her is one of the most intense. I’m so lucky for the honor of getting to love her back then even if only from a distance.
This is how I love women in my aromantic asexual lesbian way. I decided to share just to put it out there & in case anyone reads & can better understand what it’s like to be aromantic & asexual but also be oriented. I get many questions/insults by confused & judgey people. And in case anyone who can relate happens to read and understands themselves better or feels less like an outcast. Even many asexual/aromantic people don’t realize we can be oriented and are confused by their tertiary attractions.
This post is inspired by those Prince lyrics people were sharing about Prince not being your woman or your man lol Gives me chills. Seems this song is queer in more ways than one, sounds like he could be oriented aromantic/asexual & nonbinary 😆 Maybe he’s the triple-A, aromantic, asexual, agender 💚
I wrote a similar story about another of my experiences being a lesbian oriented asexual girl:
Sending love & light to all wherever in the world you are!
Xoxo Kim 💋😘❤️😍
